


R is for Rendon Howe

by OtakuElf



Series: YADAA (Yet Another Dragon Age Alphabet) [18]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Ferelden, Gen, Paternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:08:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuElf/pseuds/OtakuElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to Lunamoth116 for beta reading!</p>
    </blockquote>





	R is for Rendon Howe

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Lunamoth116 for beta reading!

Arl Rendon Howe. Once, that was all that I was. Amaranthine is no small arling. The income from the shipping has always been good. The farms provided enough to make life comfortable - for the Orlesian lord who demanded our taxes and allegiance. My father, Tarleton Howe, had put us so much in debt to pay the tax that I was years working our way out. Without money, I could do nothing. I should be so much more. I deserve so much more. I will be so much more.

The Orlesians, they offered a small pittance for allegiance. They expected it as their right. Their _droit du seigneur_. Father played the lickspittle for them, and where did it get him? They wanted no marital alliance with Fereldan dog lords. He followed their lead more to avoid any conflict than out of conviction. Father ended up dangling from a Cousland noose at the Harper’s Ford, leaving us to scramble for a place in the rebel encampment or suffer the same from both sides. Tarleton Howe, lynched by the rebels. Uncle was glad enough to send me to serve with Maric to avoid the same fate.

Maric. Wanting to be king. Pushed into leading by his betrayed mother. Loghain Mac Tir, that farm lout turned bandit, thought the boy king had come down from the Golden City itself. In love with everything that Maric had, including Eamon’s sister. No one dared gainsay the big rough boy in homespun carrying a gigantic sword that he had taken from an Orlesian knight.

Then there was Bryce Cousland. We fought together. I bled just as much as he did. Killed just as many Orlesians. I received a medal just as Bryce did. He took me under his wing, forgetting that his family had murdered my father. Wherever we went, Bryce was lauded. His looks and his “easy manner” brought women to him in droves. It never hurt that Bryce would be teyrn, while I would only become an arl. There were titles aplenty in those muddy, cold woodland camps. Bryce was just one among many, but the women found him pleasant to be with. He found them the same, that is until Eleanor caught his eye. She was fiery, a deadly shot with that bow, and interested in no one. There was a time when she said she’d never marry. It was laughable to watch Bryce following her around, lovestruck, leaving the disappointed beauties to me. Maker knows that of the five of us,only Maric and I were taking advantage of the bounty.

Loghain did not have a title. His father was a farmer. He had bitter reason to hate the Orlesians. His mother raped and murdered in front of him, his father killed. The Hero of River Dane, that was Loghain. 

When the war was over, and the dust cleared, the land of Gwaren was up for grabs. Instead of placing one of us whose noble blood and upbringing deserved the responsibility of teyrn, Maric played patron to his friend. Gwaren was a consolation prize for losing Rowan to his king. They’d never have lasted, though. After the war was won, they rarely spoke. And Cousland was, of course, rewarded with the other teyrn.

I went back to Amaranthine practically a beggar. We mortgaged the lands to the hilt in the city, and tried to make Vigil’s Keep into a home. A less welcoming prison I have never seen. Uncle Byron used the money unwisely. He enjoyed the finer things in life. Don’t we all. But any money we had coming in was spent to his glory, not for the family. He drank it all up, and that led to his end.

Nothing is so harsh and unforgiving as the stone of Vigil’s Keep. Drunk, dressed in his night clothes, it was a wonder that he lasted long enough wandering about the tunnels below before he fell down the stairs into one of the cellars. Cold got to him, and he breathed his last before any of the servants found him.

He’d never married. Children aplenty, but all bastards and easily taken care of. I was the arl. There was much to do to rebuild the arling. But to do that I needed capital.

My wife provided that. She was bitter. A witch who provided only two things, or so I thought. Her money began the rebuilding. Her family was glad to gain the title of arlessa for their daughter. An heir came soon enough. I had what I needed from her. That was all I wanted. We hated one another, and kept apart except for our duty.

Nathaniel was a sullen child, soon joined by Thomas and Delilah. It was not until the boy, my heir, was older that we were visited by the teyrn of Gwaren and his wife and daughter. Anora was a pretty little thing. Loghain was traveling to build contacts for when Anora married Maric’s son, Cailan, and took the throne. Even then he looked ahead to the day when Maric’s impulsive streak destroyed him. 

Loghain was sitting at table, Nathaniel to the side asking respectful questions as I had directed him - Lady Mac Tir, Anora and Lady Howe sitting at the other end discussing banalities - when I looked, really looked at the pair of them. Loghain with his heavy, horse’s face and dark hair. My heir who could have been his double. Nathaniel looked close enough like me to pass. But it was obvious whose actual son he was.

The bastard was fostered soon after. It was easier to keep Thomas close at hand. Whoever’s child he was - if my dear wife’s predilections for adultery rang true - it was not obvious. I began to work toward setting plans in motion. The arlessa was put into a house in Amaranthine under guard, practically a cloister. Her family could say nothing, for she was well-treated. But there would be no more clandestine lovers. A most enjoyable revenge.

I built up Amaranthine, paid back the moneylenders, and times were not quite so hard. I watched my “friend” Bryce Cousland play at happy families with his Eleanor. They had two sons, no daughters - so no hope of my taking over their land by marriage to Nathaniel or Thomas. Delilah was a surprisingly good girl, but would be too young for Fergus, who eventually married an Antivan. I offered Delilah as a bride for Aedan, to join our two families, so long friends, in marriage. Those discussions, begun as long ago as the plans for Cailan and Anora, dragged on. 

Maric disappeared, Cailan took the throne and married Anora. Ferelden grew under the stewardship of her own people, healing after her rape by the Orlesians. Then rumors of the Blight began, and Loghain came to me, of all people, to speak of his concerns about Cailan. That Cailan was in discussions with the Orlesians. He’d gone to Cousland first, of course. Loghain would never have gone to Eamon after the arl of Redcliffe married Isolde. Bryce told Loghain that he must be patient and wait. Loghain turned away from the Couslands and came to me.

Mac Tir’s concern was that Cailan was being unfaithful to Anora. The teyrna of Gwaren had only Anora before she died. Loghain never married again. His obsession with his daughter’s welfare rivaled only his hatred of the Orlesians. The thought that Cailan would put his Anora aside to court the Empress Celene drove him into thoughts of treason.

That suited my plans. I encouraged him. Fed his hatred. Put wood on the fire of his fears. For all his farmer background, Loghain was a master strategist. When he told me of his plans to kill Cailan, to consolidate the power of Ferelden in Anora’s hands under his management, I supported him - as any loyal subordinate would. He did not consider us friends. After the loss of Maric, Loghain had no friends.

The Grey Wardens did not begin as the focus of his anger. They were a means that Cailan was using to bring the Orlesian rule back to our beloved country. They would be the means to Cailan’s destruction. I received instructions to delay my troops’ advancement, to keep them from Ostagar.

It seemed the opportune moment to obtain something that I had long wished for. Bryce invited Amaranthine to join Highever in traveling to the king’s side at Ostagar. My men arrived too late to join Fergus and the soldiers of Highever as they left for the battle. After all, we had just journeyed long and hard. It would exhaust them to turn out and continue the long march. Better to rest the night, and continue the next morning with Bryce and his guard.

If there was one thing that I had done carefully and well, it was securing the services of men that could be trusted. They cared not for laws, nor morality. Slaughtering women and children, human or elven servants, all those were available for the dulcet chink of coin. By morning Castle Cousland, and Highever, was mine. Bryce, my old friend, did not die at my hand. I killed none of them. I am no archer, much as my father and Nathaniel were, and the teyrn, teyrna, and their alternative heir were put down like animals, riddled with arrows. No need for me to get my hands at all dirty.

The great teyrn Loghain Mac Tir betrayed his king, his best friend’s - and his true love’s - son at Ostagar. The guilt was easily accessed, and in return for my support I have received Highever officially, and the arling of Denerim. Someone has to keep order. Loghain is not interested in it in the least.

His obsession is that Dalish Grey Warden, and Maric’s bastard. Still loose, still attempting to fight the Blight. Fools. Two men cannot stand against all of Ferelden. I have spies searching for them. They will walk right into my hands one day. It’s possible I might be able to use them against Loghain when it comes down to it. Their mangled corpses discovered where they would do the most good. Yes. That would serve. It would bring order back to the chaos that these darkspawn have brought. 

With that order there is money. Finally the coin and attention that I deserve. Power brings women. Imagine what it will bring when Loghain finally goes too far, and the Landsmeet convenes to remove him?

By then my contacts within the Landsmeet will agree that there is only one man able to take the crown and keep the Orlesians from returning. I have no wish to marry Anora. She’s a prickly one, and not worth the trouble that taking her to wife will bring. Too, she seems to be cold and barren. Cailan tried half the men and women in Denerim if rumors are to be believed. 

Of course, my wife yet lives. She will not remain alive should I be offered the throne. Nor Loghain’s bastard offspring. Nor any of my “children”. No one will be left who can threaten my rule.


End file.
